As Time Goes By
by impr0mptu
Summary: The birth of the Hellsing organisation was not an easy one, but its tales are sure to entertain those who hear them. Follows the adventures of Alucard and Abraham. Rating may change in the future.
1. Chained

**A/N: I've been on the fence about posting this for a while; but I've now got a general plot written out and a few chapters are complete, so I thought I'd post this first chapter and get your thoughts, o' lovely readers :)**

 **I've taken inspiration from stories written by fanfiction authors _maroongrad_ and _death-in-the-orchard_. If you havn't read their stuff GO AND DO IT NOW! :) This fic will still have its own 'original' plot, per se, but its genesis was inspired by the works of those authors.**

* * *

Filth; the place stank of filth. Abraham Van Hellsing grimaced as he trod down the dank, cobbled steps of the dungeon that lay underneath the Hellsing mansion. He made a mental note to give the place a thorough clean when summer came. The final step was reached, he trod in a previously unnoticed puddle; Abraham cursed as the putrid, black water leaked into his left boot.

Yes, the place would need improving. Especially now he had reason to visit the dungeon on a daily basis.

He began to make his way down the hallway; his oil lantern cast an orangey glow on the dismal surroundings that greeted the Dutchman. There was moss here, there and everywhere. Abraham sighed, reprimanding himself for allowing the dungeons to remain in such an unhealthy state. He had reasoned before that he was too busy with his endeavours, the pursuit of the unholy denizens of the night, to bother with such trivial tasks; but now he confessed himself to blatant procrastination. Really, who in their right mind would **_want_** to clean a dungeon?

Abraham's personal musing would have to wait, though. He had come to a heavy door, blessed and lined with silver...

* * *

On the other side of the door, chained to the far wall of the cell, the creature stirred.

Dracula was broken. He was beaten, ruined by this man from lands foreign to him. The vampire had been pursued, tracked, weakened and eventually defeated. By the time the Dutchman came, the vampire's great kingdom and armies of over fifty thousand strong were long gone; he had reduced himself to a single castle and a handful of obsolete villages to manage. These too were now gone, his control over them wrested from his grasp, his brides dead, his subjects freed. Abraham had taken it all.

The cruel irony in the whole situation? Dracula welcomed it.

Once he was powerful, immeasurably so, but his power came at a price; with each life he took his powers grew, but they also became more difficult to control. Eventually Dracula sealed much of his own power away from himself, a vain attempt to stop the madness that slowly crept upon him. It had worked, to a point; he retained control of his mind and body, but his strength was now stifled, and he was vulnerable. For over a century he had lived in perpetual misery, unable to end his own existence, and unable to find another who could. His brides shared his madness, born from the same blood as his that carried the thoughts and screams of souls uncounted; in a way, he was glad to see them go most of all.

For so many years he had been waiting for a man like Abraham Van Hellsing, the man he was to now call 'Master'. He had fought war after bloody war waiting for him, a man who could best him. He was tired. Tired of the same repetitive existence, tired of aimlessly walking amongst the shadows, tired of watching those around him wither and perish into history; most of all, he was tired of the burden that a million consumed souls placed on his conscience.

But now he had found someone who could share that burden, and be strong enough not to go mad from it.

That being said, he did not go to Abraham willingly. No, he fought the entire way; only that way could the man prove himself worthy of defeating the monster. And Abraham had won, in the end. The monster was defeated, the vampire was broken. Now he was just a hollow, terrified beast that feared the very ground he trod upon. Dracula was dead, his wish fulfilled, and had been replaced with something else that yet had a name, or meaning.

* * *

Abraham opened the door to Dracula's...no-the vampire's cell. The sound of rattling chains immediately erupted into the air as the creature started, blinded and terrified by the light brought upon it by the lantern in Abraham's hand.

It had been weeks, nine to be exact, since the vampire was brought back to England, to the Hellsing estate. Abraham had since locked it in the dungeon cell. He had plainly informed the monster that he was no longer free, that Van Hellsing was his 'master', and that in time he would be wielded as a weapon against his own kind. To his surprise, the vampire seemed completely indifferent to its assigned fate. The problem came when he took away the vampire's coffin, for Abraham did not want it fully recovered until he had some way of controlling it.

The vampire had not taken it well. On the first night he nearly broke out of the restraints that bound him, and trying to escape from a dozen thick silver chains and shackles was no easy task. Eventually the vampire had literally collapsed from exhaustion, only to wake hours later and try again, and again, and again. Each time was traumatic, causing great damage to the creature as the silver burned deep gashes into its flesh.

This would not stand, and Abraham had the vampire strung up to the wall, stakes thrust through his arms, legs, and hands to ensure he was immobile. He had not wanted it to come to this. For all of their evil, vampires were beautiful creatures, and the pleading cries of the former Count Dracula were sure to haunt Abraham for years to come. He was a deeply Christian man, and his blatant abuse, his torture, of the creature was enough to make him void the contents of his stomach on more than one occasion. But it was necessary, by god, for the greater good it was necessary.

Taking a steady breath, Abraham walked the length of the cell to approach the bound vampire. With each step the creature grew more panicked, its great red eyes alight with fear, and it attempted yet again to escape its bonds. It was to no avail, the stakes creaked, and one splintered a little, but the vampire was stuck.

"Calm yourself!" Abraham commanded. The creature immediately stilled; a good sign, had been hoping for this. For three weeks now Abraham had not uttered a single word to the monster on his nightly visits, this was to ensure that when he finally did speak, it would come to greater effect.

A smile came across his lips as Abraham internally congratulated himself on his scheme's success. The smile did not last long, soon his face hardened, his mind now focused on the niggling question that he'd been waiting to ask since the vampire's imprisonment began.

"Vampire, what do you know of binding spells?"


	2. From Fear to Pride

**A/N: Here's chapter two. I'm trying to strike a fine balance between descriptive writing and actual plot movement, so these chapters may seem a little chaotic. But I kinda like that, anything involving Alucard is always chaotic!**

 **R &R as always you lovely people.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Hellsing, its characters, or anything affiliated with it.**

* * *

"What do you know of binding spells?"

Dracula felt himself freeze at the words, his body unable to move for the longest moments as he processed the gravity of Van Hellsing's implications. He had known the man wanted to use him as a weapon to hunt his own kin…but he thought it would be done under torture, coercion and duress. Images were painted into his mind of him being pulled along by heavy, thick silver chains, beaten and enraged until he was to be set loose upon his target. A beast no better than what he hunted.

Dracula had accepted this, for at least it would give him an entertaining occupation until the human tired of him and ended his existence.

But the man wanted to go further than that? He wanted to bind Dracula, linking their souls and blood with a bond that would transcend time. They would never be apart; Abraham would have to shoulder the weight of a vampire's darkness, and should he bear children, they would have to share that burden.

Was this man, this human, really willing to go to such extreme lengths to achieve his ends? Yes, of course he was, Dracula realised. Abraham Van Hellsing was nothing but a determined man, and he had shown his determination and drive with brutal efficiency. Yes, he would be willing to brook a contract with a devil, to shoulder the darkness if it meant saving others from it.

Dracula smiled, his captor was as determined, resourceful and unyielding as he had been before his life in the shadows. Perhaps that's why he was bested in the end? Perhaps it was always man's destiny to be superior to a monster, and a monster is what Dracula had become.

"Did you hear me, vampire?"

Dracula's eyes snapped back into focus, the scowl on Abraham's face indicated he'd been waiting for more than a few moments; the passage of time felt different to a vampire, especially one who was locked in a room for weeks on end. What could have been a few minutes of musing to the vampire might actually be a few hours to the human who glared at him.

"I do…" Dracula croaked, his voice hoarse from the dryness of his vocal chords. "…know the spells of which you speak…"

Excitement. That is what he saw in Abraham's face at the words. The man smiled; for once it was not an evil, smug, or hateful smile, but it was simply a pleased one.

"Then you have two choices, vampire." Abraham said, waiting a few moments before continuing.

"The first; you can stay in this cell. I will let you rot here for all eternity. I will keep you alive, barely; you will have the minimalist amount of blood possible. You will be tested on, toyed with, and used as my own personal lab rat. You will not know a day's respite, and you will be used to hunt down and kill your own kind.

"The second choice, which I think you'll find more appealing former Count, is that you work for me. Yes, I said work. Soul binding is a blood contract between two parties, one that can never be broken. You would work for me, hunt for me, and in return I would provide you with living quarters, adequate meals of blood, and ensure your safety during daylight hours. There would be rules, of course, and breaking them would result in severe punishment; however exemplary behaviour will be rewarded. These rules would apply to me as well, as part of the contract, and I would do all in my power to ensure this is a mutually beneficial agreement."

Dracula eyed Abraham with marked surprise, though his face could not show it for his muscles were too weak and worn to work a tangible expression, and he saw the man's eyes light up with anticipation.

"What say you, monster?"

Dracula did not say anything for a long, long time. He simply stared at Van Hellsing, measuring the man, searching for any sign of deceit in his eyes. It would not be the first time a human had tried to trick him, and yet he found himself trusting this man's words. The same man who currently had him staked to a wall. The irony was not lost on him. But he saw no deceit, no hidden plot or ploy, only honesty. The man was serious.

A flicker of pride burned within the vampire, a segment of Count Dracula that was not yet dead to the world. Yes he was proud, not of himself, but of his captor! The man, a mortal who dared to presume himself master of a monster. The fear suddenly fled from him, chased away by a sudden admiration for the man that crashed over the vampire like tidal waves.

Here, stood before him, was indeed a worthy master. Dracula had served men before, in the time that he was human, but they could never match up to this, to Abraham! Here was a man with the willpower and the means to make a servant out of a vampire, to stare death in the face and laugh at his medians! Who wouldn't want to serve such a man, such inspiring presence!

And intelligent too...

This must have been Abraham's plan all along; to break the vampire, hurt him, starve him, and then offer him a means of escape that he had no alternatives in taking. What a brilliant, tactical mind!

He almost started when he felt a gentle rumbling in the room, only to discover it was his own dark laughter working its way through his dry chest. It wasn't the strong, booming laughter he was used to hearing; rather it was more of a wheezing cackle. But he was laughing all the same.

* * *

"You find my proposition amusing?" Abraham asked irritably. He was at a loss at to why the vampire was laughing off his offer, considering the alternative was a lifetime of pain and unending suffering. Clearly it was indeed a mad creature!

"Amusing?" The vampire asked weakly, his dry lips cracking as they curled up into the evilest of grins. Abraham shuddered at the sight, reminded of the first time he'd seen that hungry smile. "No, my dear captor, I do not find it amusing…I find it invigorating! Wonderous! Oh, to see such strength and assurance, you truly are a tamer of beasts!"

Abraham's lips quirked, he didn't know whether the beast was taunting or complimenting him; either way this was the most amount of life he'd seen in it for months. Where was the fear? What had happened to the frightened creature he'd seen not five minutes ago?

"Your strength vanquished my fear, Van Hellsing," The vampire answered, it was as if it could read his mind! "How could I ever know such a weak emotion, if you are to be my superior? No, you deserve only the strong, and you shall have the strongest of vampires! I am a monster, and only a man can kill a monster, or, in your case, control one! Use me; wield me as a sword to cut down your enemies. I will do it willingly; I will slaughter the lesser monsters for you!"

Abraham wanted with all his strength to take a step back from the raving vampire, but he was too stubborn, and too astounded to do so. Here was the vampire he recognised, a lustful creature that cared only for violence and death; he would be the ultimate tool of destruction, and it seemed like that the creature was actually willing to aid him.

No, it wanted to aid him. It wanted to hunt again, to feel the thrill of the chase, and the taste of blood. It was driven by instinct, and who was Abraham to not take advantage of that?

"So you agree to the binding?" Abraham found himself asking hastily, hoping to capitalise on the vampire's sudden change in mood.

"I have not served a master in centuries, but tonight I look upon the only human I could ever call so," Dracula said proudly, though the moment was slightly spoiled by his ruined voice. He leaned out from his bindings, the stakes holding him in place cracked and creaked, the silver chains burned deep into his flesh; he was nearly nose-to-nose with the man when he finally voiced his affirmation. "Yes, I accept your terms. You win, Van Hellsing, my Master."


	3. Binding

**A/N: Yes, yes, I've updated this fic AGAIN, and not 'On Hallows Eve' or 'On Her Majesty's Orders'. Fear not my friends, I shall update them shortly :)**

 **A big thank you to everyone who's reviewed/faved/followed so far...Here's chapter 3! R &R You lovely people.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Hellsing, its characters, or anything affiliated with it etc**

* * *

The dank hall of the dungeon echoed with the clanking and cluttering of a wooden cart being pulled down the stairs. It was heavy and cumbersome, one of the wheels was crooked and caused it to sway to and fro, and its wooden frame was thick with rot. Abraham had filled it to the brim with a vast assortment of items; ingredients, silver objects, utensils and some other strange things. Some had proven difficult to find, and had required a short trip to the continent; Abraham had been concerned about leaving the vampire alone, but seeing as it was still chained in its cell, the chances of it causing trouble were negligible. The gains far outweighed the risk, and Abraham **needed** those ingredients. Binding rituals were complex, and required a great deal of preparation; especially when it came to the most dangerous rituals of all: soul binding.

This had been Abraham's end game, and he had been waiting years –decades- for this moment to finally arrive. This time it would work, it had to work! Abraham could not bear another frustrating failure. The former Count Dracula would not be the first vampire he had attempted to bind; there had been others, nearly a dozen in the past, and each time they had perished. Soul binding was incredibly taxing on those the spell was focused on, for the binding of two souls, one pure and one tainted, went against the very order of nature. The human host suffered least during the ritual, for his soul was alive and healthy; but the vampire, its soul held together with darkness and black magic, was far more vulnerable. In most cases the vampire's soul was torn apart before the rituals could be completed, leaving a mindless beast that slowly expired over several hours, by daybreak there was never more than dust remaining.

It was a tedious endeavour, one that nearly drove Abraham to abandon his cause on several occasions, but his stubbornness won through. His ancestors had not sold their souls to the devil for nothing! They had done it to access the powers required for the taming of evil and Abraham was blessed with five generations of his family's knowledge. He'd needed to find a stronger vampire, one that could survive the binding process. For several years he was away from his home, searching the continent for a superior beast, one that could be tamed; and that was when his path crossed with those of a group from Britain, friends of Lucy Westenra.

Abraham smiled as he thought back to that moment, at the time he didn't realise how good his fortunes were! Months of searching had yielded nothing, but a two-week trip back to England had put him on the trail of a powerful vampire, perhaps the most powerful that existed; if this vampire didn't survive the binding process, nothing would.

The cart came to an abrupt halt as it reached the bottom of the staircase, jolting Abraham from his reminiscence; he adjusted it slightly, freeing it from its wedged in position, and continued his journey towards the vampire's cell.

* * *

Dracula could hear his master coming before he even got close to the dungeons; the cart was loud and heavy, and the man was panting with the exertion. The cart also had a squeaky wheel, though he was sure that his master could not hear it; it was too high a frequency for human ears. It was annoying, but not enough to cause discomfort; though it had woken the vampire from his rest, and without a coffin he was a light sleeper!

At least he was no longer staked to the wall. Abraham had taken him down when he had agreed to the binding, a reward for 'good behaviour' -as he had put it. Dracula was still chained to the wall, the silver and iron bonds -with their warded inscriptions- still held him and only allowed a few meters of movement; but it was better than having stakes in your limbs. Abraham had not lied, good behaviour was indeed rewarded.

Perhaps when the binding ritual was complete he would be allowed his coffin back?

The thought filled Dracula with excitement, the thought of rest, the silky fabric, sleep! It was all so nice! Yes, he would do everything he could, short of begging, to have his coffin returned.

It would help him heal, too. His body was still in a horrid condition. Abraham had fed Dracula, though he had been alarmed when he learned that the blood had been donated from a patient of Doctor John Seward. Dracula had refused the blood, thinking the Doctor would have poisoned it; no doubt he and the other ones (the people) had reservations about Abraham keeping 'his' vampire alive.

He eventually drank the blood, after much coaxing on his master's part. Well, perhaps coaxing was too soft a work, more like tactical shouting. But he had complied, afraid of earning his master's wrath so soon into their agreement. Dracula had no intention of being the simpering servant, but he also didn't want his privileges revoked before he even got them!

The blood had helped, though it had not healed him much. There were still large pits in his body from the stakes, but they were no longer seeping wounds; his skin was also improved a little, it was more taught than before, and gave him a less ghoulish appearance. The blood had also improved his hearing, which was currently telling him that his master had just reached the bottom of the stairs near his cell.

There was the clanking of metal, the turning of a key, the clicking of a lock, and the heavy door to Dracula's cell flung open, a slightly exhausted Abraham stepping through it. Dracula regarded him quizzically for a moment; it was strange seeing his master in such a flustered state, and also rather entertaining.

"Whatever have you been doing, my master?" He asked, the undertone of amusement evident in his voice, its silky tone having been returned by the blood.

"If you must know, vampire," Abraham spat vehemently, his annoyance pleasing Dracula even more. "I've been carting down all of the materials needed for these blasted binding rituals."

"I did offer to assist you, master." Dracula interjected.

"You're not leaving this cell until the ritual is done." Abraham retorted hotly.

Dracula watched with evident amusement as his master hauled in the rickety cart; he was actually rather impressed that a human had managed to get that thing down such a treacherous flight of stairs!

His master removed the canvas sheet that covered the top of the cart, and tossed it roughly into the corner of the room. It landed within reach of Dracula, and he picked it up to further examine it. It had been so long since he'd had anything to see or do that a simple piece of fabric was oddly fascinating. His master forgotten, he started to fumble and rub the fabric, enjoying its soft textures and rough edges.

* * *

Abraham unpacked the cart quietly as the vampire fiddled with the dirty sheet of canvas. It was such an odd creature; a bloodthirsty beast one moment, and as curious as a cat the next. He planned to carefully document everything about the vampire, including its habits and mannerisms, and this observation was definitely going to be written in his journal tonight.

The cart was slowly emptied, its contents neatly arranged in a long line against the wall of the cell opposite the vampire; he didn't want it getting too close that it would spend hours examining every item. The vampire may live for an eternity, but he wouldn't!

Eventually the empty cart was wheeled back out of the cell, Abraham needed every square foot of space available for the ritual, and the cell wasn't overly spacious. He pulled out a stub of white chalk from his pocket and began to draw out the first sigil on the stone floor, a trapping spell.

The vampire looked at him curiously, having torn itself away from the fascinating piece of canvas. Its eyes burned at him, and Abraham suspected that it was amused by his mistrust.

"You expect me to trust you out of those shackles, vampire?" Abraham asked mockingly as he continued to draw out the symbol.

"You would never trust a vampire." It replied with a toothy grin, something that Abraham was beginning to grow all too familiar with; the creature took delight in making him feel uncomfortable. Abraham ignored it, though, knowing that such insubordinate behaviour would cease once the seals were in place.

He carried on his dutiful work, only stopping when the vampire managed to grab a hold of one of the boxes and had begun emptying it around the place.

Almost two hours later, Abraham was carefully walking around the cell, checking to ensure everything was in place. The vampire was now in the centre of the room, unchained but bound by the trapping sigil that had been drawn underneath its feet. The binding spell had been prepared, the correct incantations had been spoken, and there were two small saucers of blood sitting on a small alter that had been brought into the room. One saucer held the vampire's blood, and one Abraham's.

Everything was ready, it was time to begin.

"Are you ready, vampire?"

All it did was simply grin back.

"Are you?"

* * *

"Is it done?" Abraham asked, panting, as he collapsed onto the cold basement floor.

"It is, master." The vampire responded emotionlessly, a small trickle of crimson ran from the corner of his mouth down to his chin.

 _Master…_

The name was still alien to him, though Abraham took delight in the knowledge the vampire was now his to wield. He would have supreme command over it, now that the binding ritual was complete, and the creature would never harm him.

He sat on the cold stone floor of the vampire's cell, and quietly contemplated his situation as his body recovered from the strain of the endeavour. After so many long years he finally had a real chance at making a difference, a chance to end the senseless slaughter of innocent lives at the hands of the supernatural. The true gravity of the situation would not sink in for some time, he was sure of that.

Closing his eyes, Abraham concentrated on the seal and the bond it had formed. His mind was flooded with images, memories and emotions that had been transferred to him from the vampire. At first it was nauseating, but Abraham quickly grew tolerant of the sensation; the vampire had told him this part of the bond should only last for a day or two at most. After that there would just be the connection, an invisible wire that linked their minds and allowed Abraham his control over the once great nosferatu.

Moments passed in silence as the man caught his breath, the vampire standing motionless the entire time. Abraham looked at the creature, his creature, noticed that it seemed a little more recovered thanks to the blood given in the ritual. The body of the vampire no longer looked as skeletal as it did before; the muscles had filled out slightly. The gashes that had been burnt into its wrists from the silver restraints were no longer oozing, and had scabbed over. The puncture marks in its limbs, from the stakes that had held it to the wall not a fortnight earlier, appeared smaller than before, though they were still visibly large. This was good; Abraham reasoned that a proper feeding routine would have the vampire healed in no time at all.

He got up slowly, staggering on his feet a little; the mental toll of the four hour long ritual was clearly more than he realized. He also felt a strange throbbing sensation in his head, perhaps he was dehydrated?

Abraham conceded to himself that he must rest, as much as he wanted to bask in the glory of his success…and gloat in the vampire's face. That could wait until tomorrow though, for now he could feel the warm bed of his chambers calling to him.

"I shall return tomorrow, and you are to remain in this cell," He commanded, dusting off his jacket in a vain attempt to get the grime off it. "This is my first direct order to you."

The vampire didn't respond, it simply stared ahead, wide eyed and with a blank expression on its face. Abraham waved his hand in-front of it; no reaction. He prodded it in the chest; no reaction. He kicked it in the shins; no reaction.

Abraham frowned; the vampire had survived the binding ritual easily enough (almost too easily), succeeded where all others had failed. The ritual had taken its toll, but, like Abraham, the vampire merely needed to rest.

Unless something had gone wrong…

"Vampire! I order you to respond!" Abraham yelled, slightly panicked by this point.

Several tense moments passed, then the vampire blinked, and its eyes adjusted back into focus. Relief swept over Abraham as the vampire appeared to snap from its odd trance; clearly the seal had forced it to comply with his command (that at least was a good thing). Its eyes looked pained; perhaps the slight delay in its reaction had caused the seal to hurt it?

"Master, something is amiss…" The vampire whispered, almost as if it were afraid to speak its own words.

"What is it? What is it, vampire?" Abraham asked worriedly.

The vampire looked at him, its own eyes reflecting the worry that Abraham felt. His heart sank. Something had gone wrong.

"My powers, I cannot feel them."

* * *

 **A/N: Oh dear...what horrible fate has befallen our favourite vampire? Abraham...did you do something wrong?**

 **Please let me know of any errors on here. I picked up on a few with the last chapter and they have now been fixed =]**


	4. Bath

**A/N: Hey gang! Sorry for the delay, I've been very tied up with my work so my writing had to take a break, but I'm back now.**

 **This chapter's only a quickie, but I hope you like it ^_^**

 **R &R as always, you lovely people!**

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own Hellsing, its characters, or anything affiliated with it.**

* * *

A clever man commits no minor blunders…or so the saying goes. Clearly this wasn't the case for Abraham Van Hellsing.

Human error, that's what it had boiled down to; Abraham had made a simple, but catastrophic mistake. Not only had he incorrectly translated a line from the scriptures, and then spent the following week mentally kicking himself, but he had also managed to seal the vampire's powers away in the process, essentially rendering the creature useless.

Abraham stood by the large window of his office, peering out to the grey sky that so perfectly reflected his sullen mood. The rain pattered loudly against the thin glass, aided by the strength of a westerly wind; it had been days since he'd even seen a sliver of blue sky, and it looked like the weather had no intention of letting up.

In silence he considered his current predicament. On one side of the coin he had succeeded; he had bound the vampire to him, and, after a few quick tests, confirmed it would now obey his commands. On the other side, he was now stuck with a useless vampire, completely stripped of its once formidable abilities; though he was able to confirm that it still, at least, possessed the natural regenerative abilities and the advanced senses of sight, taste and smell that all vampires held. That was the only small consolation that could be taken from the disaster.

Unfortunately his troubles ran deeper than that. Abraham was living in a respectably large house, on a large estate, and enjoyed the comforts of high-class British society due to the good graces of the British Empire and the Crown. This boon was granted to him on the condition that he provides England with an effective weapon to defend itself from the denizens of evil. It would look badly upon him if he repaid their thirteen-year investment with a nothing but a de-fanged nosferatu. If he could not rectify this situation he risked financial ruin, and worse, the tarnishing of his reputation.

Abraham bristled at the thought. He could handle the idea of being broke, for materialistic gain was never high up on his list of ambitions; but his pride refused to entertain the notion of his integrity being called into question. He knew pride was a sin, but damned the heavens if he was only human.

Turning from the window with a huff, he gazed upon the ruined landscape of his office. Paper and parchment were strewn across every available surface, piles of books leaned precariously against the chairs, and the air was thick with dust and candle smoke. It was the evidence of a week-long labor that had brought him nothing. Abraham had scoured every book in his library, and had even elected to go through his old notes and journals, but nothing had come of it; there was simply no way to undo what had been done. The magic he had used was simply too powerful, and the spell was full-proof in its design. Nothing short of a miracle could reverse it.

All he could do for now was to wait for sunset, and then he would continue to feed the vampire.

The door to the office flew open, shaking Abraham from his reflections; the sudden waft of air stirred up more of the dust, causing him to cough as it irritated his throat, and with it came a foul smell he'd become all too familiar with.

The vampire stepped through the threshold. It was now fully healed, though it had taken Abraham four days to feed it a sufficient quantity of blood to allow the process to come to fruition. Thankfully, John Seward's many contacts in the medical field were able to happily oblige him with vast quantities of blood that came from either surgeries or wilful donors. The transformation he'd observed in the vampire had been astonishing.  
Its hair was no longer faded and wispy; instead long ebony locks billowed around the angular frame of its face. The muscles had filled out nicely, and meant the vampire no longer had the frame of a skeletal corpse; covering the body were some simple, plain clothes. Most men would consider them to be nothing more than recently cleaned rags, but compared to what adorned the vampire previously they could be the finest raiments in all the land.

Sadly it didn't help the smell. He'd set the vampire to work cleaning it's cell, however the accumulation of mud and grime on its skin meant it trailed the scent of mildew and rotten wood through the house. The two servants had raised questions about the strange odors, but Abraham could only give them half answers; the vampire had not been formally introduced yet, and he was only allowed up into the main house on the days Abraham had sent them away on errands. If he were to be truthful, he would rather them not be introduced at all; but it was inevitable.

"I have completed my task, master." The vampire spoke softly, though the undertone of annoyance could still be detected in its voice. Naturally it had not taken the loss of its powers well, and placed the blame squarely on Abraham. The vampire's brooding had become so unbearable that Abraham had set it to work on random tasks around the estate to keep it busy, the most recent of which was clearing out the other rooms in the old basement that it now called home. The vampire kept to the shadows of the room, casting hateful glares at the large window that brought so much light into the place. Though sunlight caused it no physical harm, the vampire apparently still found the brightness irritating, even on an overcast day.

Abraham rolled his eyes. He walked over to the windows and pulled the heavy curtains across them, draping the room in darkness save for the small gas lantern that sat on his desk. The vampire seemed to relax a little, and pulled itself out of the corner of the room enough for Abraham to look at it properly.  
"Better, vampire?" He asked, irritated.

All he got was a snort, but Abraham took that as a 'yes'. Obviously the monster was far too proud to say a simple word of thanks; they were both alike in that way, it seemed.

"How have you fared?" It asked, gesturing a slender arm to the sea of books and papers.

"Not well. I've gone through every book, page, and scrap of paper I can find; and I fear that if I cast my eyes on another book I might just go mad." Abraham took a stack of book off from his office chair, placing them onto the already crowded desk so that he could sit for a moment. He cast a wary eye upwards when the vampire did not immediately respond; he was expecting a witty retort at his expense (he had quickly learned of the creatures intolerable ability to rub him the wrong way), but none came. "You have permission to speak." He reiterated, thinking perhaps the vampire was waiting for his command.

"I'm thinking." The vampire said plainly.

"About what, pray tell?"

The vampire looked down at itself, its red eyes burning along its body and down to its feet before rising up to meet Abraham once more. "I am dirty; I would like to take a bath, master."

Abraham sighed; the creature had an almost child-like attention span at times. One moment it's brooding and grumpy, the next it's fickle and selfish; the vampire that was once Dracula was an enigma. He considered the monster's request before answering. "And why should I grant your request, servant? What have you done today that you think earns you such a concession?"

"I might have a solution to our little predicament," The vampire said, almost nonchalantly, thought it seemed unable to stop the toothy grin that spread across its face. "This is, if you wish to hear it, master?"

Abraham said nothing before quickly brushing past the vampire and out of the room.

Ten minutes later, the sound of running water echoed through the upper corridors of the house.

God almighty, that monster was quickly becoming a pain.


End file.
